Falling For The Star
by Originals143
Summary: 'To this day, I profusely thank my heart for falling for that one star which touched my life and changed it forever. For showing me the life I had never thought I'd have.'


**|: Falling For The Star :|**

**A/N:** An immensely important clarification before proceeding with the story. This story is NOT written with an intention of showing Abhijeet's love for Tarika. Rather, it is written strictly to show her prominence in his life. With me probably being the ONLY die-hard Tarika lover left in the fandom, every little thing in the story does matter for me.

On with it then, before you folks start yawning with my controversial A/Ns.

Set in the Golden Age (Tasha-era). Inspired by a couple of other stories.

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Of all the things my eyes witnessed and my nerves sensed, in these seventeen years of serving as a dedicated cop and adjusting to the life post the ghastly memory loss, never had I thought once there would be a time someone would walk into my life and take my entire soul away. Practically.

All those times I had bugged Daya spending hours talking about her, getting teased by him in return and resulting in him animatedly flailing his hands in the air, crying 'Abhijeet, you've lost yourself to her!', it now makes sense how those words were true, which I had earlier discarded very vehemently, much to Daya's amusement.

Lying in my favourite rocking chair, after endless days and sleepless nights of getting sunk in evidences, rolling and turning dead bodies for signs of identity, noting statements of utterly disinterested witnesses and playing with my gun, one thing I never cease to think- or rather, my mind subconsciously insists on taking me- to the restricted areas of my past, of which I had pulled the shutters down, swearing never to open them again. As I remember the turbulent, absolutely meaningless months spent unsuccessfully trying to gather the shattered pieces of my past, the countless number of Whisky pegs chugged down and the various brands of cigarettes burned, life had been pretty much... predictable for me.

Or wait. Not really. Never had I thought, after spending almost two years being jobless, spending nights and nights attempting to get glimpses of my own identity, days and days sitting aimlessly staring at the blank walls, fighting down every failed effort of not to wail miserably (I'm a human, not a cold-blooded monster), bearing the trauma of losing my mother about whom I still don't remember a thing, with those horrifying nightmares adamantly refusing to leave my back- in short, a life one would never wish even for their arch enemy, my life would be where I am today.

There had come a time when the tears refused to fall, the lungs rejected every drag of smoke and the oesophagus declined to consume another chug of alcohol.

Over the course of seventeen years, I don't know what change the good God had bestowed upon me, whether it was ACP Sir's decision to hire me back in the CID- someone whose mind had lost of traces of sanity and stability, hire me back with the _same_ position and respect I probably had before the devastating memory loss, I must add, or Daya becoming an integral part of my life, his role graduating from that of a junior to a friend to a best friend, or the regard my colleagues gave me as a senior. Life had been returning back to normal, I would never deny.

Whatever it was, I accepted it... rather happily. My mind seemed to be patching up with stability, my heart playing a loyal role of not going haywire about things.

Until she came.

My mind was all in a rational state, being a perfectly good guy till a considerable period after I was acquainted with her. I never paid heed to her or her existence during the initial days. Not because I was supposed to be a tough, life-solely-giving-to-duty senior officer. But because things like love had never been my cup of tea. Or were they? Who knew, I never remembered.

But then, did I mention how my heart suddenly took a clumsy leap and refused to beat- sometimes beat way faster than it was made to- with my growing association with her? Ohh hell, now I know why they mostly blame the heart for messing things up! Traitor!

And then, the mind happily joined in the betrayal- much to my horror. Eventually, after fighting down the urge, my mind and heart left me with no choice but to fall for her. Head over heels! They seemed to be saying "It'll make you happy, idiot!" Like yeah!

Soon, every nerve of my being started betraying me whenever she came into picture. I remember how my eyes used to scan the entire otherwise mundane and absolutely nauseated forensic lab for one glimpse of her- she didn't belong here, a part of my heart always told me. I remember how my lips subconsciously used to give way for a broad grin whenever I saw her. I remember how my voice used to get stuck in my throat and how my own heartbeat used to ring in my ears whenever I talked to her.

Every single time. Every freaking day. I was going crazy for this one girl! And worst part? I didn't _know_ what I felt- a confusing state my mind had never ever put me into ever before. Damn heart, again!

If that wasn't enough, it was the time I reasoned I would be able to get rid of her thoughts, when I was horribly mistaken. Her face, her smile, her voice refused... just vehemently refused to leave my head. And I still didn't know how I felt.

It wasn't long enough- thankfully- that I decided I should do something before this girl completely takes my breath away. She had always succeeded in that, by the way. I had fallen for her, and admiring her silently was already driving me mad.

I never knew what she had in her which made me feel the way I never had- or never thought I would- for _any_ girl. I am still finding an answer to that.

In an attempt to increase my proximity with her- or rather, to calm the turbulence going inside me- I started praising her in the lab. Every small thing she did, whether or not it was relevant. Of course, that earned me plenty of mysterious smirks and teases from Daya and countless signature dead stares from ACP Sir. But, I didn't care. My mind had again lost its capability of thinking rationally, and surprisingly I seemed to enjoy it. To be honest, I was heartbroken when she used to ignore me initially, or just used to return a dry smile.

That, however, didn't stop me from growing my association with her, for I was hell-bent on knowing what had made me behave the way I was, around her. My heart had made a small dance when I had seen her smile for the first time upon being teased by my name by her friends. "Looks like someone's in love!" Her best friend Tasha had sung, and even though she had shut her up, I had seen her smiling to herself from a distance. And my heart had gone all gaga yet again.

Over the course of time, we became friends. Rather, I would call it as something more than being mere colleagues. Friendship happened much later. But even that equation with her of being more than a colleague is every bit worth cherishing. She was initially hesitating to make friends with me. Not because she had an idea about my feelings for her. She never did make any close friends apart from Dr. Salunkhe, Vivek and Tasha. She had always been the reserved kind, I remember Tasha mentioning it once. Isn't it strange how I, who ain't the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to remembering things, seemed to remember every negligible thing about her?

So, it all started one night when I dropped her home because her car had refused to start- I still thank the car engine for that night- and we were all alone in the parking lot. Destiny, they call it. Whatever, I never bothered anyways.

I was particularly silent on the way to her home. Like I said, my voice never came out whenever she used to be around. But I knew I had to make efforts. So, to strike a conversation, I had asked- rather clumsily- about her experience in the CID (after cursing my mind for not coughing up any other topic of conversation), and she had slightly giggled over my incessant hesitation. Not my fault, _she_ was making me do that! She looked cute when she giggled. First thing about her that made me lose my heart to her, I learned that night.

In those blissful months, our friendship graduated with time, and I found myself sharing every small thing with her. And was fascinated to see the way she listened so patiently, the way she gave importance to every single word I shared. Be it an utterly agonizing nightmare I had or a harmless prank I played on Freddy. She always showed this deep interest in listening very keenly to every minute detail- something which I had never experienced with anyone else.

She still doesn't leave a single chance to tease me on how I took a whole month to just confess my feelings for her. "I'm utterly blessed to learn that you didn't consider proposing me on the day of my wedding to someone else!" She had said rather flatly when I had knelt down in front of her. She looked beautiful even when she was mad, even when I was expecting her to reciprocate or to smile. She always does.

The moment from then, when she had playfully punched me in the shoulder as a response to my proposal, it just turned me... upside down. My heart had never been happier, my life never been better.

Every single thing about her made me fall deeper and deeper for her with every passing moment, every passing second. The way she scolded me for pulling Freddy's leg, the way she taunted me for taking ages to propose, or the way she warned me for handling my gun too carelessly- every freaking thing about her was... _mesmerizing_. Captivating, yes it was- _is_- captivating.

I found myself being pulled toward her as though a rope tied to my heart, tugging it with a force I couldn't- or never wanted to- control. I still don't bother to control my feelings for her, I must add, even after four long years of togetherness. And she is solely responsible for it!

These four years, we have had moments of bliss, we have had small arguments and we have had fights. And I should consider myself lucky for the way she has managed to stand by me through all this. The unfailing patience in her is something I have never understood. Can't help but admire it, though. Girls can clearly give men a run for the money if the willpower exists!

Sometimes, I just prefer to sit and adore the way she cracks an absolutely senseless joke, the way she gets adamant on riding my bike instead of hers (she is in love with my bike and claims on stealing it one day, for reasons best known to her), the way she childishly insists on ordering a pizza for dinner, later pestering me to finish up three-fourth of it, and then complaining on how fast I am putting on weight. The arguments we have on her eating too less (still having a figure worth dying for) and me not exercising regularly are something I look forward to. Eagerly. Because everything around her seems worth looking forward to. Even the most uneventful things.

Especially the most uneventful things. Because she has an invisible magic wand with her to turn those into moments worth remembering for me.

I love the way her attitude takes a three-sixty degree turn sometimes within a flash of a second, be it the fluttering of those adorable eyelashes and the reddening of those delicate cheeks when she blushes, or the deep kiss she plants on my lips without giving me a chance to react, when she feels over-romantic. The way she pulls herself away from my arms when engaged in work, or the way she prefers snuggling close to my chest, pestering me to caress her hair for hours together. Ohh, did I mention just how much I love those curls cascading down her back? Well, I don't think I have loved straight hair ever after playing with those curls- not even my own, and I'm very possessive about my hair, mind you!

If ACP Sir learns how I spend hours and hours thinking every small thing about her, he'd probably be annoyed!

Anyways, getting back to her, if you think I am into her for her external beauty, listen to this. She has this very bad habit of putting me over her. Always. Even though I love it, it annoys me, no doubt. I still remember the day she had taken a bullet to her shoulder to save me. Needless to say, we had ended up in a brawl, with me yakking and yakking, trying to give her a piece of my mind, resulting in her smacking a deep kiss on my lips- for the first time- to pacify me, much to my astonishment. When we had broken up, my eyes going wide with shock, she had merely said, "This is to prove my love for you!" She had winked nonchalantly, a deep red flush spread on her face. God, I don't know what gets into her sometimes!

When we both had accustomed back into reality, we had kissed again, this time a more intimate one, and then several times, nearly avoiding going one step ahead. Sometimes, I dread kissing her, or the way she takes my hands and rolls them around her waist, digging her own in my hair. I have to put all I can to stop myself from going any further. And her teasing and playing with my lips does not help!

"Don't do this to me, Tarika!" I had once whispered in her ear, when we had cuddled on her couch, massaging her hair on her demand. "It makes me want you!" My voice had been muffled by her hair, to which she had simply turned around and planted yet another kiss on my cheek. All I could do was roll my eyes in exasperation.

She has this power of brightening every dark moment I go through, no matter what the situation demands. "Don't ruin your future by thinking about the past which has already gone, Abhijeet!" She had once comforted me for two long hours when I had become hysterical about the nightmares I get. Thanks to her, I hardly get them any longer.

She looks extremely adorable when she gets mad. "Senior Inspector Abhijeet, if I get to know that you've lied to me, I'll shoot you!" She had once pulled me closer by my shirt collar, muttering into my ear. "You don't need to shoot to kill me, sweetheart. Your eyes are enough for me!" I had joked, pecking on her cheek- something I have learned from her. She had playfully slapped me in return.

She is her happiest self when with Vivek and Tasha, with the kind of friendship they share where all I get to hear are mock abuses and all I get to see are the countless playful punches and shoves they give each other and not a single chance left on taking a dig at each other. They are the kind of friends with whom you instantly get that connection, that click.

She has their special prominence in her life, and I have mine. We have been lucky enough to understand it, and never intervene with the same. All that matters to me is the smile of contentment on her face, that natural contagious laugh of happiness which I ever wonder if I'll be able to give her.

All those times I have hurt her, I have been rude to her, she has never lost hope on me. I mentally kick myself for every tear that falls from those eyes, and it aches to know I am the reason for those tears. Though I employ every possible way of convincing her, I know the love, the compassion she has given me can never be matched for. Not even for hundreds of centuries brought together.

The love I want to give her, the love I try giving her is always accompanied by the guilt of not giving her the life she deserves. Yes, we _are_ happy, all right. And she means it when she says she's lucky to have me. And she knows I cannot promise her a lifetime of togetherness, considering the constant threat we cops have. "Life is uncertain for everyone, Abhijeet. Who knows, in the long run, I might die before you. Will you leave me for the same reason?" She says and all I can do is shake my head in spite of myself, admiring her optimistic resolve yet again.

For all those times when she goes out of the way to help me, for being there whether or not I need her, for waiting for me after a long tiring day at work, for tending to my numerous wounds and irate mood swings, for making me forget all my anxieties by moving one hand over my head, for landing herself in danger for me, I just sit and wonder whether there can be anything to compensate.

To this day, to the four years of our relationship, I profusely thank my heart for falling for that one star (literally) which touched my life and changed it forever. For showing me the life I had never thought I'd have. "Thank you, Tarika, for everything. Thank you for making my life worth living. Thank you for making my life worth _this_!"

**~~ The End ~~**

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**A/N:** For once, I'm asking for reviews for this. However, if you do want to review, it'd be appreciated if you review on Tarika's significance in Abhijeet's life and the sacrifices made by her, which have been royally ignored by FW and the fandom.

Not a compulsion, though. Review only if you feel like.

Some lines have been taken from PR's stories. Thank you for that.

Haters, please feel free to throw tomatoes and eggs, for I'll happily prepare nice, delicious egg curry out of it. Thank you! _/\_


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